Doom and Gloom
by Saffronica612
Summary: I have mindworms. Why, you might ask? Because I've actually decided to write a real Stork/Cyclonis fanfic...
1. Captured

Author's Note: Doom and gloom. I'm doomed. Why, you ask? Firstly, I am starting yet another story (a bad habit of mine, but my stories are all such different moods, and depending on what mood I'm in…well, I guess you can tell I'm in a rather morbid mood here.) Secondly, I'm doomed. I have mindworms. They will eat my brain and I will die a slow and painful death. Because there's no other explanation than mindworms why I would write another Cyclonis/Stork romance pairing, and this one is a real one, not a one-shot.

So lock me up in a mental hospital. But read my story.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Storm Hawks.

* * *

_**Stork.**_

Doom and gloom. She's on my ship.

As in _she_—the witch, evil incarnate—is on _my_ precious ship, _my_ precious Condor.

She's our prisoner. How ironic. Last time, we were her prisoners.

Ha, ha. I'll appreciate how funny it is when I get over the fact that _she was on my ship!_

o.o.o.o.o

It was Aerrow's plan: let ourselves be captured by Cyclonia, spread dissent among any Talons who would listen, and, of course, the main objective, free as many prisoners as we could. From the very dungeons of Terra Cyclonia.

I had once wondered how they decorated the dungeons. Well, now I knew.

I had to say, it wasn't bad, wasn't bad at all. The walls were clean, and completely smooth, hewn from marble. They glistened. The cells were fairly accommodating, maybe half as large as my room on the Condor was, and bare except for a small bed. The bed was pretty comfortable, covered in warm blankets, way better than one would expect. We were all separated, kept in solitary confinement, but our bodily needs were taken care of. We were clean, we were well fed, we had a lot of rest, and no one approached us at all to torture us.

I also had no idea how Aerrow planned to go on with his plan if none of them let us see anyone.

It was boring here. I knew they were playing mind-games with me, but I wasn't going to crack. Merbs can go into a deep form of meditation, completely suspending their consciousness, almost like a coma. It's called the healing sleep. So when the Cyclonians waited for me to go crazy, my mind rested and became stronger.

Actually, the dungeons weren't too bad. With the thick walls and all the guards, they were fairly safe. Like the only other place I felt safe…

No. I was not going to think about the Condor. That only made me upset. That disrupted my zen.

"Prisoner!"

I barely heard the call from the guard, followed by a rap against the bars lining the cell. Then again, I wasn't that far gone, so I was lucky I heard him at all.

"Prisoner! Get up!"

I kept my eyes closed, hoping whoever wanted to see me would leave me alone. They weren't going to torture me now that they saw their mind games weren't working, were they?

"Stork of the Storm Hawks." This time it was a cool female voice.

Oh, no. Not _her_ voice. Surely she didn't want anything with me.

I glanced up. Yep, it was Master Cyclonis herself. Did I mention I was doomed?

With a flick of her hand, she unlatched the cell door, and stepped inside, before closing it and locking it again with her crystal powers. I had no doubt that she had various crystals hidden all over her person, and she was not as unarmed as she seemed. Besides, I wouldn't dare attack her in a palace full of her Talons. That would be suicide.

She turned to the cell guard. "Leave us," she commanded.

Okay, now I was really nervous.

I fiddled with my thumbs, ready to try to read whatever expression she had in her violet eyes when she turned to me.

o.o.o.o.o

Piper insisted that we all take turns carrying her food. She is a prisoner, but we're treating her like a guest. I want to complain that _I_ would like to have breakfast in bed, but I don't. I'm more mature than that. I'll let Finn do the complaining.

So I unlocked the door to the room we were using as her cell and pushed the tray of food inside, trying not to look at her.

I still made eye contact.

Those violet eyes were devoid of emotion. It was the scariest thing I had ever seen.

o.o.o.o.o

Her violet eyes were devoid of emotion. It was the scariest thing I had ever seen.

I'm perceptive. I can tell when someone is angry, or scared, or happy, but more importantly, when they're relaxing or when they're about to attack. It's a Merb thing, from centuries of everything attacking us. We got good at recognizing the danger signs.

With her, everything screams 'DANGER,' and yet her body language is…controlled. It is neither tense nor relaxed. She has a complete and perfect grip on every single one of her muscles, and so I can't tell anything about what her next move might be.

For a second, I'm jealous. Control like that…

Then my fear returns.

At least she doesn't have mindworms. You start to lose control over your body when you have mindworms. Just small things, like twitches…

She said nothing, so I decided to start the conversation. "Why are you here?" I snarled. "To torture me?"

Her lip curled up into a sneer. "No," she replied, throwing as much sarcasm and hate into her words as she could. "I just like to chat with my prisoners, because I get lonely."

But I'm a Merb. I'm perceptive. And I see something in her eyes that tells me that maybe it's not too far from the truth.

"Well, chat away," I found myself saying amiably. "Do you have any new fun crystal projects you're working on?"

She stared at me in surprise, but quickly covered up her shock. "Chat we will," she replied. "I answer your questions, you answer mine, deal?"

I glanced at her carefully. "I can't promise that."

She shrugged. "I'll keep going until you stop. Or vice verse. I'll even let you go first."

I should have said no, but I couldn't. Before I could stop myself, "How is she?" burst out of my lips.

"Piper?" the dark young empress snorted. "You want to know where you precious navigator is. Well, she's—"

"Not Piper!" I growled in frustration. "The Condor! You didn't hurt her, did you?"

Cyclonis's eyes widened slightly, a very small movement but yet again it did not escape my notice. So she was surprised, by me. My question. "You care for your ship more than for your team member?" she snorted.

"You said you'd answer my question first."

"Very well," the queen of Cyclonia replied. "We have her in a storage bay. Tried to do some maintenance, but the casualties from traps became too much. No one was killed, but we decided why waste effort on it? So we locked your precious ship up. Don't worry, it—"

"She"

"She, then, hasn't been harmed."

Relief flowed through me. The Condor was okay.

Abruptly, Cyclonis rose to leave. Confusion washed through me.

"Where are you going?"

She leaned in, close to me, too close, and the alarms in my head went off again. _Danger, danger, danger!_ they screamed.

"I'm Master here. I come and go as I please, Stork. Never forget that."

Then she left me, sitting there on my tiny, but not cramped, bed, feeling confused and wondering why.

I was doomed.

o.o.o.o.o

Somehow, I always expected it would feel good to capture her. Like discovering the cure for Azarian Laughing Fever, I thought it would bring more safety into my own personal world. I liked feeling safe.

But we had brought her onto the Condor, and my happy safeness had shattered like a thin bubble of hope that had been popped.

I was surprised at how easy it was. It was almost like she wanted to be captured. Still, we had destroyed her home. Terra Cyclonia was gone, wiped off the face of the Atmos. It wasn't like she had anywhere left to go.

Why we took her in, now that was a bigger question. Just like we had destroyed her home, she had destroyed countless others. She had destroyed Terra Atmosia, wiped it off the face of the Atmos. We couldn't take her to the Sky Knight Council for trial, because they were gone.

We had no where left to take her.

So she stayed with us.

And I had my biggest nightmare, my greatest fear, sleeping in the same ship that I was.

They were crazy if they thought mere metal walls were going to restrain her. We were all doomed.

* * *

That was fun. Needed to get it out of my system…hopefully, I'll be able to sleep now.


	2. In My Mind

Author's Note: Hehe, it's back. Yep. It is continuing! Then again, all of my stories are continuing, it just depends on when I have time to update.

Speaking of time to update, I want to apologize, I'm not going to be able to update my other stories for a little while. Schoolwork has been really piling up, and I have to look at my priorities. Sorry!

Thanks to my sole reviewer, Pascy. I will make it work. Trust me.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything ;-)

* * *

_**Cyclonis**_

Why?

It's a question I ask myself a lot of the time, because I find it sharpens my mind. To have perfect control over herself, one must know herself completely. Why people act stupid, why people do things they regret—it's because they don't know themselves, and therefore cannot control themselves.

Control. It's all about control. Control is the epitome of power, and power is the meaning of life.

So I ask myself why, and hope that the answer might enlighten me.

Why did I allow the Storm Hawks to capture me? I had the crystals and the abilities to blast them down, or at least escape. Even now, I can feel crystals all around me, and it wouldn't be hard to mold them to my will. Why was I still here?

The answer doesn't surprise me much; after all, it is hard to surprise yourself.

Pride. Pride mixed with self-preservation.

I had gone from the ruler of the greatest empire on earth to just another defeated villain in a matter of minutes. I found more pride in being captured and held prisoner by my greatest enemies than to be hunted like some animal across the Atmos. Here, I was honored as a dangerous enemy, and as much as I hated to admit it, the Storm Hawks were good fighters. There wasn't much shame in being defeated by such honorable foes, at least far less shame than running and hiding for the rest of my miserable existence. In their makeshift prison cell, I was a person, and I could tell that they would be unable to harm me, because they cared about protecting people.

How naïve of them.

Perhaps I would take them down, if the mood stuck me. The dying act of the evil Master Cyclonis, to rob the Atmos of their heroes.

I wasn't in the mood right now. It was the self-preservation.

Survival instinct exists in practically every form of life. Food, water, shelter. Stay away from danger. As thoughts grow more complex, the instinct grows more complex. This person looks dangerous. A gut instinct not to explore that Terra without a lot of backup.

Out there, they all wanted to kill me. In here, I was fairly well cared for (as long as that idiot Wallop wasn't doing the cooking—I would rather starve than eat what he called food) and the Storm Hawk kids had no where to take me for trial. There was no where left. Atmos was in ruins. I had made sure of that.

They wouldn't hurt me, and they wouldn't let anyone else hurt me while they held me in their custody. They called it 'honor.' I planned to make use of that for my own needs.

o.o.o.o.o

Why?

It was a question I asked myself as I stood outside of the door to Stork's cell.

I knew their plan to spring free all the prisoners. I knew with my fumbling, incapable subordinates that I probably couldn't stop them from escaping if I wanted to.

The dungeons of Cyclonia were rarely used. Actually, we kept all of our prisoners of Terras like Zartracla. I polished up a few unused cells that we didn't use for storage, and put them all in solitary confinement. For as long as they thought there were actually prisoners here, they would stay, and there would be no Storm Hawks interfering with my plans.

They were trapped by their minds. How ironic.

However, this was no excuse for me coming down, again, to stand outside of the Merb pilot's door. This behavior of mine was irrational. It would accomplish nothing.

If I did not understand my own behavior, I had to ask myself, 'Why?'

I was surprised by my answer: I liked his company.

Once before, a girl, Piper, had told me that I was just a lonely girl who tried to cover it up by taking over the world. I ignored her. I brushed the comment aside. You can't be lonely if you have everything. Loneliness was another way of saying weakness, and I was not weak. I am not weak. I never will be weak.

If I was not lonely, then I did not need his company, so I whirled on my heels and returned to my throne room. I counted myself lucky that he could not have seen me sulking outside his cell door, just out of vision range.

o.o.o.o.o

When I had talked to him, that first time, he asked about the ship. That's probably what interested me so much about him. He had one question, and he didn't bother to ask about his teammates, he asked about his precious Condor.

It made me admire him.

Not to push aside the importance of keeping one's allies safe—after all, you need them to be whole to fight for you. What impressed me was that he was one of those full of nonsense do-gooders, but he still had the smarts to inquire about his escape vehicle. He had his priorities right—self before friends. If friends even exist.

I was surprised to see such logic come from a Storm Hawk, but then again, was he not the one reported to have said, "I'm only here until something better comes along."

I wonder if he would be interested in joining Cyclonia…we could use talent like him. _I_ could use talent like him.

o.o.o.o.o

It was Piper's turn to bring me dinner.

I could tell by the way the footsteps rang down the hall. Junko made a lot of noise, Stork I had to strain to hear, Finn usually stomped or banged something, and Aerrow walked regularly. However, Piper _strode_. It was almost like listening to a girl in heels strut, except she wasn't wearing heels.

Besides, I had memorized their rotating schedule already, and it was her turn.

I tried to analyze my emotions as her feet came closer and closer to my cell, no, room. Cell implies that one is a prisoner, and I could escape any time I felt like it, so I wasn't in a cell. The cells were only in their minds, and because I obeyed the limits they set, in my mind, too.

The big difference was, in my mind, not crossing those boundaries was a choice, a conscious choice that I made every second. They assumed that the boundaries were immutable, and that gave me the advantage.

The key jangled in the lock, then the door opened, and she came through.

A whirlwind of emotions flew threw me, paining my chest to the extent where it actually hurt to breathe.

She was the first person I truly exposed myself to, emotionally. Even I did not share with myself some of the things I blurted out to her. She could have been my sister.

Instead, she threw it all back in my face.

It made me wonder: was she naturally a bitch? Or was there something wrong with me? Something that made me unlovable?

Due to the observation that she is friends with her entire crew, and various Sky Knights around the Atmos such as Starling and Suzy-Lu, the logical conclusion would be that there is something wrong with me.

Another thought hits me. Why must it be that she is right and I am wrong? Can't there be a grey in the middle? Maybe we're both grey…

The answer comes to me immediately, and the pain quiets down, under control. Knowledge means control, and control means power. The three are all equivalent of one another. The three are all that one needs for success.

The answer was knowledge. The knowledge meant control over my unruly emotions. If I was in control, then I wielded the power.

It was all in my mind.

That was the answer. It was all in my mind. However I wanted to see the world was how the world would appear. That was why I could never really conquer the Atmos: because I saw it as the Atmos, not as Cyclonia.

Now I saw the true power in this room, and whom it was wielded by. And the one in control wasn't Piper, it was me.

"Hey, Piper, my best friend. You brought me dinner? How sweet of you!" I gushed. I put just enough fake sweetness in my voice to make her suspect the falseness of the emotions, but not enough for her to reject it openly.

"Yeah, here you go Cyclonis, don't try anything funny." Every night, it was the same. Every night, there was the same hurt in her eyes as she stared at me, as if she was imagining what our friendship might have been like.

Fool. There are no friends, only allies that you flatter so that you might subtly manipulate them in the future. There are no friends simply for the enjoyment on company.

If she wanted to think that, though, why not let her? One more game to occupy my time, one more sympathetic supported for the poor, dethroned queen—what did I have to lose? Only my semblance of power, and in my experience, it is the true power that matters, not the semblance of it. Wisdom over pride.

"Seriously, Piper," I said, lowering my voice as if in disappointment or regret. "You were the only person I could ever call friend."

I heard a startled little gasp from her, as my words and acting had the intended affect. She whirled back around. "Don't think you can pretend to be all nice now, when you're captured, and think that I'll pity you. Don't think you can have friendship now, when you threw it away earlier."

Inside, I bristled. She was the one who threw it away. She was the one who rejected my offer to join Cyclonia. She was the one who didn't deserve my attention.

Also, I had to admire her determination. She was playing right into my hands, yes, but she almost escaped. Almost.

I let my gaze drop. "I know it's no excuse, what I've done. But sometimes…" my voice cracked here. "Sometimes, I thank the Gods that you finally captured me." I raised my violet eyes, and much to Piper's surprise, there were tears welling up. "I'm a monster, Piper, and I can see it. I hated myself, but at the same time, I couldn't stop. There were nights when I held a crystal blade to my throat, and contemplated ending it there, and you…" I broke off here, for a little sob and a wiping of my eyes. "You were what kept me going. I thought, 'Piper would be stronger.' Or 'Piper wouldn't have let this beat her.' Or 'You've got to get up and try harder if you ever want to be better than Piper.'" I paused again, taking out a tissue and blowing my nose quickly.

"And then when you captured me, you offered me redemption. I don't have to be evil here. I don't have to pretend anything. I know I can never have a new life…or be like you…but being here…it gives me hope…that I might have a chance…" At this point, I broke off completely, burying my head in my hands and sobbing uncontrollably. Surprisingly enough, I felt warm arms around me.

"Hey, it's okay," Piper coed.

The poor little idiot. I wasn't even that good at acting, but she swallowed it all up. I didn't know how she could accept my story without a doubt. A tiny part of me felt a bit bad for feeding her such falsehoods, but mostly, I was disappointed it had been so easy. I had been mentally preparing myself for a huge showdown, and her trusting me so easily was a bit too…anticlimactic.

"Eat with me?" I asked, wiping my eyes and sending her a shaky smile.

"Sure," she replied with a big grin, and we dug into the tray like two sisters.

Poor Piper. Poor, innocently oblivious Piper. I almost liked having power over her without her knowing it more than having publicly proclaimed power. I always like the subtleties of control and influence more than brute force. Who cared about all of the Atmos? It was in shambles already, from the aftermath of the war. No, what I had in my sights for conquering was the Storm Hawks' hearts and minds.

The poor naïve fools. They didn't stand a chance.

* * *

hehehe…I like writing from Cyclonis's POV. Probably because I'm slightly insane. Review if you want to; I'm not going to beg.


	3. Past, Boredom, and Other Fun Things

Author's Note: Thanks to TalonXViolin and She who must not be named. I own nothing. I see no need to waste space with a larger author's note.

* * *

_**Stork.**_

Everyone was on the bridge. Obviously, everyone was on the bridge, because in team meetings, the entire team has to be there, and I never left the wheel. Too many bad things have happened when I've given up control of the Condor.

Aerrow addressed the problem right away. He's a pretty good leader. Too bad, like all warm-blooded mammals, he's 60% more likely to be a carrier for the mindworms.

"What do we do with Cyclonis?"

"They've set up a new governing council on Terra Gale," I sighed. "Drop her off there. She's not our problem."

"But Terra Gale is traditionally one of the most prejudiced and anti-Cyclonian Terras!" Piper protested.

"Your point is?" I droned.

"That would be a death sentence!" she squeaked.

"Since when have we cared what happens to her? She would have killed us without another thought. If she gets what's coming for her, it's her own problem."

They all stared at me in silence.

"You're not serious, guys?"

Come on. There was no way that I was tolerating all the doom she would bring _on my Condor!_

"Before you make any final decisions," I quickly intoned, "I move to have us all checked for mindworms, to make sure that our choice is completely unbiased and does not result in our long, drawn-out, painful demise!"

"Stork, you are such a drama queen," complained Finn. I shot him a glare, and he shut up.

"Let's vote, now!" Aerrow commanded.

I felt the panic welling up. I saw the looks in their eyes, the expressions of sympathy that they always gave her whenever they exited her cell. She was working her manipulative ways on them, I was sure. She was twisting their minds to fulfill her own wants and needs. They were falling under her trap. Couldn't they see that?

She didn't affect me at all because I knew what I was dealing with. I wore first-class earplugs before ever entering her cell. No way was I going to give her the chance to win me over with slippery words.

"All in favor of keeping Cyclonis as our prisoner indefinitely?"

They all raised their hands. I glared at them, each in turn.

"She's just a lonely girl. She never was taught better!" Piper protested.

"I'm just goin' with the flow, man, I really don't care," Finn explained.

"She seems so nice. Maybe we can just be friends. Anyway, she doesn't deserve to be hurt," Junko grinned.

"The Storm Hawks are all about justice," Aerrow stated calmly, "and there won't be any justice on Terra Gale. We'll keep her safe, and who knows, she might re-think her morals."

I shook my head. "You don't know her…" I said. "You don't know her like I do. She's insane. Completely insane. Remember that mission when we allowed ourselves to be captured…?"

o.o.o.o.o

_**Cyclonis.**_

Control.

It's all perfectly fine in theory, but in reality, perhaps less practical. One of the reasons that I might be perceived as obsessed with my crystals is because the crystals I can control. Each crystal has a specific function, and a specific amount of power. Each crystal acts and reacts exactly how it is supposed to, and exactly according to the laws of science.

Some times, a lot of times, I think the eukaryotic life forms didn't get the memo. I mean, we were all fine when we were single-celled organisms, but when we evolved to more complex forms of existence…something went wrong. We ended up with stupidity, imperfection, and flaws.

Take Snipe, for example. Such an idiot that I am fairly positive that there is something wrong with his brain. Somehow, he can take the simplest orders and mess them up.

Or Ravess, who is the biggest suck-up I've ever seen. I'm not sure which I detest more: Snipe's groveling or Ravess's honey-tongued excuses. Perhaps the fact that both of them fail deserves my loathing more than either of their pathetic life-forms.

Then, of course, there's the Dark Ace. Egomaniac, narcissist, braggart, shameless liar and manipulator—all qualities that I could respect, of course, as long as he had the skills to back them up. At one time, I prided him as the Cyclonian champion, feared throughout the Atmos. His defeat at the hands of that brat kid destroyed all of that. Now, he's just another failure, and a rebellious, overly prideful one to boot.

No, my subordinates were far from ideal, but what made me even more upset at the evolution of biological life was my inability to control my own body.

I'm a teenage girl. Scientifically, I can name to you the exact level of hormones in my blood causing my violent mood swings. Scientifically, I know it all makes sense. That doesn't help me control anything.

I'm fine when I'm working with my crystals. There, I'm in control. However, as it was proved today, things can easily go downhill.

It started with the Talon interrupting my studies to report that the Dark Ace was back from a mission securing one of the borderland Terras. To no one's surprise, he had failed.

Why had he failed? I wondered. I had locked the Storm Hawks up for him. They were right below our feet as we spoke. What excuse was he giving me this time?

He didn't even have one. How pathetic. I felt my lips curl into a customary sneer.

"Get out of my sight."

I was losing it again. The control, I mean. Yet on some chemical level, the anger felt _good_. It freed me. It made me want to run around and scream. I needed to do that. I had been cooped up for too long.

Snipe was the next to face my anger. Actually, if I were not already so irate, I may have found it _funny_. He decided to launch an invasion on Terra Atmosia—the capitol of the free Atmos, the home of the Sky Knight Council, and the most heavily defended Terra of our enemies—because he had run out of _mustard_.

I briefly considered dissecting him to see if his brain was in his stomach. Then, I decided it was illogical, because such a large-scale mutation would have resulted in death before birth.

I pondered dissecting him anyways, just for the fun of it. Nah, too messy.

Then, just when I was turning back to my crystals, I realized that I didn't want to work with crystals anymore. It wouldn't be productive. I was in a destructive mood, and I knew from experience that it was best to stay away from my many delicate projects when I was in bad moods.

I wanted to…not necessarily kill someone. I had yet to cross that line, and I wasn't sure if I was eager to. I wanted to make someone scream for mercy.

The Talons around me backed up, obviously intimidated by the aura of anger and violence that I suspect I was radiating. Poor fools. Cowering only brought my wrath down on them.

Yet there was someone else I wanted to bring my wrath down on.

That stupid Merb pilot. He was stuck in my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about him.

I wanted to crush him, but at the same time, I wanted to befriend him. I wanted to impress him. There weren't enough people around here to truly appreciate all that I did for Cyclonia. This was a one-girl show, run by me, salvaged by me, and everyone looked at me like I was the bad guy. (Yes, I realize I'm a psychopathic tyrant who will stop at nothing until I conquer the world. What I mean is that after the Talons fail, they look at me begging me for mercy like it's _my_ fault. Like _I'm_ the one to blame.)

The bottom line was, no one valued me enough around here, and I was angry, and I was bored. I needed a new toy to play with.

Despite how illogical it was, I made my way down to the dungeons. I worked way too hard around here, and all work and no play means a nervous breakdown and the eminent collapse of the entire empire.

After all, I couldn't be in control all the time, could I?

o.o.o.o.o

_**Stork.**_

The moment she entered the cell, I knew something was wrong.

Well, actually, taking a look at my situation: I was stuck in the dungeons of Cyclonia, and for the second time in three days the Master herself was visiting me. Was there anything _not_ wrong with that? Didn't she have someone better to bother, like Aerrow or Piper? Why me?

However, today, something was more wrong than usual. I could tell. There was something about her—it was like, well, she had seemed so in control before, like everything she did was planned out perfectly. Now she seemed…

Not in control.

Like she _wanted_ to do something rash.

I had a strange feeling that this 'something rash' was going to be unpleasant. For me.

Damm her. It was supposed to be the mindworms. I had spent seventeen years worrying about the mindworms, reading all the scientific articles on mindworms, taking preventative measures against the mindworms, and mentally preparing myself (yes, I do see the irony) to suffer a long, painful demise by mindworms. And she was going to mess all of that up by being in a stinkin' bad mood while I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"What do you want this time?" I snapped. Might as well get it over with.

She smirked. "Tisk, tisk, Stork, you don't want to antagonize me, do you?" I glowered at her silently. "If you remember properly, you still owe me an answer to one of my questions."

She took a deep breath, then looked me in the eyes. Then, to my great surprise, she got down on one knee.

"Stork of the Storm Hawks, will you marry me?"

WHATTHEHELL!?!?!

"Hahahaha, you should have seen the look on your face!" She was floating in the air now, curled up in a ball, rolling backwards and forwards, tears of hysteria streaming down her face. "My God, Stork, you make me wish I brought a camera."

She was having too much fun with this. I decided to creep her out a bit. "What if I said yes?"

That sobered her up, for about three seconds, then she burst into laughter again. "Stork, _darling_, if you said yes than I would have accomplished exactly what I wanted. You would have joined the Cyclonians, and taken the Condor with you, and the Storm Hawks would be ship-less and pilot-less."

Hm. Interesting. So if I married (Ew) her, then I would be Master Cyclonis? Was I that selfless? I could save the entire Atmos—

"But don't be getting any ideas. The title of Master descends through bloodline only, not through marriage. A quaint little traditions one of my foremothers made up to protect their power."

Damm. Not that I ever considered marrying her in the first place.

"Although if you're thinking of courting me, you might want to ask me out on a date first."

How desperate was this girl? Was she really this bored? I decided she must be PMSing, because there was no way she acted this weird normally. "Look, Cyclonis," I began.

"That's Master Cyclonis to you."

"Fine, Master Cyclonis," I sighed. "I am not interested. At all. One bit. So if you want a date, go ask Dark Ace or someone else who can't turn down your orders."

She made a face at Dark Ace. "Ew," she complained. "Way to not get a joke. I swear, no one on the Atmos knows what sarcasm means."

"And I'm sure that you didn't learn about sarcasm, degrading comments, and other nasty put downs from the wonderful environment you grew up in," I mumbled under my breath. Of course, she heard me.

To my surprise—wait, who am I kidding, I wasn't surprised by anything after she sarcastically proposed to me—she smirked. "See, this is why I like spending time with you, Stork. You're the only one here in Cyclonia with the wit to match my verbal and mental games and the brashness and defiance to do so."

"So you're complimenting me for insulting you?"

She grinned. "You could say that, yes."

We sat in silence for a few minutes.

"So, um, what do you Storm Hawks do for fun? Because I'm bored, and I've come down here to be amused, and not that you haven't been fun, but I can always sit down and do nothing in a far more comfortable chair—my throne."

"Oh, yeah, way to rub it in," I shot back. "You should install a throne in all of your dungeons so your over-inflated ego is satiated every time you want to rub your superiority into your prisoner's faces."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Make me."

"You know, I'm in the mood to torture someone right now, so don't give me an excuse."

I stared straight into her eyes. They pierced back into my own. They were completely serious. I gulped. "Mostly I just drive. Finn plays his music, Piper works in her lab, and Aerrow trains."

Those death-filled eyes of hers narrowed. "That's not helping, Stork. Ten seconds for a better answer, or else…"

I started sweating. "They sky surf!" I squeaked.

"Perfect," she purred.

I started backpedaling immediately. "_I_ don't sky surf, _they_ do, _I_ just drive the Condor."

"You're going to show me how. You can come along or I can drag you along. I really don't care."

I winced. The last thing I wanted to do was make a fool of myself falling off a surfboard into my eminent doom in front of Master Cyclonis, but I had no other choice.

Did I mention I was doomed?

* * *

Hehehe…


	4. Past, Part 2

Author's Note: Yeah, I nearly forgot to write this, so sorry if it seems a bit rushed.

I received so many marvelous reviews, and I'm not going to take the time to answer them all right now, but I want you to know that if you did take the time to give me feedback, I am extremely grateful. Thank you so much. Everyone else, please review! I don't mind flames, criticisms, or even a random 'hi,' I just want to hear from you.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

_**Cyclonis**_

I. Am. Such. A. Moron.

Idiot.

Imbecile.

Blockhead, dunce, nitwit, simpleton, cretin. Whatever word you wish to use.

Beside me, the Merb was mumbling about mind worms and glaring at me suggestively. If my own scientists hadn't showed me concrete proof that mindworms were an old wives' tale, I might have believed him. It turns out that mind_worms_ aren't worms at all, but an extremely rare bacteria found in warm freshwater called _N. Fowleri_. I did not take pleasure trips to a lake (besides, it wasn't like there were lakes all around Cyclonia; actually, bodies of water are fairly rare in the Atmos), so it was more likely that the stupidity of my subordinates was beginning to rub off on me.

That was a disturbing thought.

Would I slowly sink into the darkness of stupidity, stop thinking things through, forget the higher maths and complex crystal manipulations that I loved? Would I, like the poor bloke in that novel _Flowers for Algernon_, be able to observe this happening? Although there was no way I was going to mourn some lab rat. Or mouse. Whatever.

UHG! Stupid, stupid hormones! I could feel them, affecting my brain, causing my thoughts to go off on long, irrelevant tangents. Usually I was in better control.

Control.

Take a deep breath, be in control. I am Master Cyclonis, and I shall always have the upper hand. There was no need to panic. Mind over matter. Mind over body.

What was wrong with this situation?

I didn't like the idea of going Sky Surfing, something I would not be perfect at, in front of an enemy prisoner. Actually, I did not like the idea of such a frivolous and dangerous waste of time anyways. However, this was worse than usual because I needed to look perfect, infallible, invincible in everyone else's eyes. Seeing me struggle, fall down, or look like a fool would kill my image.

I was Master Cyclonis. I could simply decide not to go Sky Surfing, couldn't I? But it wasn't that simple, because I had dragged the Merb against his will out of his cell to take me. If I didn't follow through, it would seem exactly what it was—I would be chickening out.

So I would go through with it. It couldn't be that hard, after all, if the _Storm Hawks_ could do it, then I could _master_ it. It was only a simple matter of velocities, acceleration, angles, force, mass, momentum—I could calculate everything using the complex formulas I learned in Physics and Calculus.

Math—easy, simple. There was only one right answer to every problem.

Sky Surfing—nightmare. Get me away from it! Falls in the same wasteful, stupid category as vacations and watching movies and eating ice cream (pumpkin pie is an exception to my dessert rules).

When Sky Surfing is turned into a giant math problem—I was back in my element.

Good.

You see, if it hadn't been for the stupid hormones, I would have been able to come to this conclusion without talking myself through this. I would have been spared so much unnecessary panic.

Actually, if it wasn't for the hormones, losing control of my big fat mouth for a minute, I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

_**Stork**_

I am so doomed.

I know I always say that, but I'm always serious. I'm just more serious than usual this time.

Master Cyclonis has mindworms. It's the only explanation. I recognize the symptoms—erratic behavior, doing things completely against character, talking to herself, just acting all…weird. Definitely mindworms. It has to be.

And she's hanging around me!!!!! Why me!?! The mindworms are out to get me; she's determined to infect me.

There is no way Cyclonis in her right mind would just ask me to go Sky Surfing with her. That's like…

Well, when other teenagers ask each other to go Sky Surfing, it's called asking them out on a date.

Ew. That is so wrong. I think the mindworms have infected me already. Cyclonis…and me…on a date? Someone put me out of my misery, please. Let my eminent demise come a bit more quickly, just don't subject me to such psychological torture.

Torture, humiliation. That was what this was all about. Of course. She wanted to get me so freaked out that I would make a fool of myself, and fall off the board. Maybe she wouldn't even give me a parachute and I would plummet into the Wastelands and burst open like a water balloon being dropped from too great of a height. My blood and guts and gore would splatter all over the heated rock, sizzling and grilling until not even charred bones remained.

I felt a bit calmer. Nothing like the vivid mental image of your own corpse's dust to wipe away pictures of you and Cyclonis holding hands, or…God forbid…_kissing_…

Argh!

Better to think about her hands.

She does have such pretty hands, with those long, precise white fingers. Now that I think about it, I don't mind at all that she's so pale. Some people may consider it ugly, but I actually think it's kind of beautiful. It's as if she's made of porcelain, like some fragile china doll. In medieval times, aristocratic ladies used to powder their faces to achieve skin tones like hers.

Although, most of those ladies died from the lead poisoning in their powder.

Hands. Just think about her hands. Yes, nothing weird about thinking about her hands.

Gah! Who am I kidding? Thinking about her at all is weird! But her hands…they're so exact, and so pale.

Pale white. That's why I like them so much. They're like a clean, fresh, blank sheet of paper.

No dirt.

I've never seen her dirty. Actually, as a scientist, she's probably just as paranoid about keeping things sterile as I am. I would never have to worry about _her_ being contaminated.

No, the only thing I would have to worry about with _her_ would be her losing her temper and frying me with a crystal in some fit. Which is why I wouldn't have to worry about her at all because I have decided to stay away from her. Yep. Definitely.

Like that's going to work when I'm stuck in her dungeon.

Why me? It's like I'm doomed for the most nasty death imaginable.

She continued forward into the huge Talon training arena—I guess that's one advantage to owning a palace—and hopped on a skimmer. Then…she…she…she motioned for me to sit _behind her_.

As in, right next to her, having to hold her waist for support, behind her. As in no way.

She glared at me, and I was reminded of my priorities. Better behind her than in a coffin in front of her. Besides, one of us would be on the board soon, so it wouldn't be for too long.

When the guys did it, they always wore their bathing suits, but as it was _Sky_ Surfing, one never really gets wet, so we wore our usual armor. I have to say, I was relived that she didn't force me to change. Plus, it would be really strange, hard for me even to imagine—_no! not going to think it!_

Cyclonis in a bikini.

Too late.

Not that she'd look bad in one at all, it was just too…weird to think about.

I am so doomed. She's infected me. I have the mindworms. Because mindworms are the only explanation for me actually thinking about Cyclonis in a bikini. There are so many things wrong with that statement that I don't even want to think how wrong I am. Wrong, perverted, not-the-way-it's-supposed-to-be, wrong.

"Stork!"

"Huh?"

"Get on the board and show me how it's done."

"Yes, _your majesty._" Gosh, the girl was pushing. Thank goodness Finn had forced me to try it when Junko was off eating lunch and Aerrow was too busy. I might be able to not fall off now, due to this training.

"Finally admitting to the inevitable? It's nice to hear you address me with my title."

"I was being sarcastic."

"So was I."

Damm. How does a guy respond to that? With the silent treatment, I decided. If I still had my ear corks, I would have plugged them in, too.

I got on the board, and it actually wasn't that bad. Sky Surfing isn't particularly hard as long as the driver is good. With Cyclonis at the wheel instead of Finn, I found I was actually enjoying myself.

How strange. I was actually sort of sad when my turn was over. That's certainly never happened to me before.

Of course, when she got on, she did it perfectly. After she got the hang of it (which was in about three seconds), she began experimenting rocking side to side, even going as far as doing a backflip on a curve.

Overachiever.

Although I have to admit, it was impressive.

The weirdest thing was, I could swear she was smiling, almost like she was actually enjoying it. Hah. Enjoying it. Like she even had feelings at all.

She might be human, but she's not a person. She's a monster of the worst kind.

"STORK, YOU IDIOT! LOOK—"

I was so busy watching her that I forgot to turn. The wall of the areana closed in on the skimmer, and I didn't even have time to gasp before the world exploded around me, and everything went black.

0.o.0.o.0

0.o.0.o.0

0.o.0.o.0

The next thing I remember is her pale face staring down at me. Her expression, hard to describe, but…

She was not happy.

* * *

Well, that's a nice place to end.

Next chapter is back in the present. Review please!


End file.
